Page 4 of When the Moon Met the Sun

“Thank you,” I whispered into her shimmering blonde hair. I felt her wrap her arms around me, holding me like she may never get another chance to.

“I love you, you know. Now, we really do need to get going,” she said, stepping towards the door and opening it for me.

“We forgot something!” I said over my shoulder as I rushed back into the heart of my chambers. My large, wood framed bed sat in the middle of the room against the far wall, colored in the North’s signature colors of silver and blue, with wooden bookshelves and silver accents taking up every inch of space they possibly could along the far left wall. The right wall housed the entry to the washroom. Next to that was my vanity where I had sat just moments before as Aurora meticulously put every hair in a specific place atop my head.

Sitting on the left side of the vanity atop a white, velvet pillow sat my mother’s tiara. Father had passed it down to me on my thirteenth birthday, and since then, it had been among my most prized possessions. Now, its aquamarine centerpiece shimmered as I reached for it, as if it could sense it was about to be worn again after so long. I rarely had an appropriate opportunityto wear it, seeing as I didn’t usually get the chance to represent my nation in front of anybody, let alone somebody from the South. Everybody in the North already knew who I was, as most have watched me grow up—at least from afar—so the tiara more often than not remained on its perch, watching and waiting.

“Here, let me help,” Aurora said, striding over and gently taking the tiara from my hands. I turned to face her as she placed the tiara on top of my head, nestling nicely atop the braid she had woven.

“There.Nowyou’re ready,” she said with a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. I peered at my reflection in the mirror one more time. A smile crept onto my own lips as I realized how much I looked like the paintings I had seen of my mother, even if only for tonight.

“Alright, let’s go,” I said to my best friend, linking our arms together. Knowing I could face anything so long as my best friend and twin were present, we walked out of the door and towards the unknown of the evening.

Chapter Two

Itook up my place at my father’s left side while Dimitri sat to his right, both of us looking out across the long, marble table that Father often used for meetings with his advisors, all of whom were present. The Southerner and I were the only females at the table, as the advisors my father kept were all males. On the tabletop was showcased a variety of traditional Northern treats—a giant roasted hog, candied carrots, spinach and strawberry salad, and some sort of pie I couldn’t make out from my position. Then there were other dishes I didn’t recognize, which I assumed were dishes native to the South, to make our guest more comfortable.

Father had addressed her as Princess, so not only was she here as an ambassador for the South, she was also royalty. She sat at the other end of the long table, opposite of Father, her dirty blonde hair so rich it was almost a brown color instead. She held her chin high, her shoulders squared back, and a soft smile played on her lips. She was dressed in fitted, brown trousers and a cream-colored tunic, with colorful jewels hanging from her pointed ears, throat, and wrists. A circlet of golden ivy sat upon her temples, curving around the back of her head. The title of “Princess” didn’t even need to be spoken aloud for one to know she was important, and it was obvious that she knew it, too.

The thing that stood out the most to me, though, was a curious set of brown markings on the back of her right hand, crawling up the back of her forearm. It was a specifically detailed pattern of swirls and swoops, the darker brown making it stand out against her tan, freckled skin.

Her appearance, while regal, still shocked me and left me stunned. The Princess didn’tlooklike somebody who would kill my people in cold blood, or sit back and laugh while she ordered Father’s soldiers’ wings chopped off. She looked oddly sophisticated—nothing like the cruel beasts that I’d grown up hearing stories about. Beasts who shouldn’t even be allowed to call themselves fae.

“Thank you for joining us here in the North tonight, Princess and Ambassador Teagan Thorntier. It’s an honor to have you present as our guest, and we’re grateful you made the long journey to be here. We hope you make yourself at home throughout the duration of your visit.” The voice of my father, King Horace Heartshire, rang out across the room, making all of the chatter that may have been occurring cease instantly. I watched as all heads turned his way, his voice alone commanding attention. That wasn’t the only thing about him that demanded attention, though.

The high backed wooden chair he sat upon, which had been custom made specifically for Northerners with large wings, also drew immediate attention. The top of it was crowned with a carving of a wing overlapping a crescent moon—the symbol of the Northern royal house, the Heartshire’s family line. This wasn’t his throne room, but the chair he sat upon was close enough to a throne that it still drew immediate attention to it, due to its sheer size and the fact that all other chairs around the table were of normal sizing. Another variable was likely his giant, black wings that poked out from above his broad shoulders, even though theywere tucked in close to his body. Black wings were a rare sight to see, even among us winged fae of the North.

Something that had always stood out to me personally, though, was Father’s graying, black hair. An obvious sign of aging. I spent so much time reading, it was difficult to imagine the era, centuries ago, where us fae weretrulyimmortal. When we didn’t age as the humans do, when we were known for more than just our zirilium. In today’s world, our lifespans didn’t exceed that of a normal human—the only humans being those in the Levast Isles—and I felt as though we as a people had simply accepted that fact. Nothing, not even the records, saidexactlywhat caused the fae to lose their immortality. And nowadays, nobody seemed to care all that much.

Well, at least nobody in the castle talked much about it. I’d heard rumors of fae making it their life mission to travel our realm in search of answers, but most Northerners were too busy fighting to survive, fighting in war, or fighting to please my father to worry about our lost immortality.

Personally, I’d always wondered what it would be like to know true immortality, as our ancestors did. As a young girl, I used to tell Dimitri that I’d crack the mystery someday. That I’d be an adventurer, somebody brave and courageous, who would finally restore the fae to their previous glory.

I’d since outgrown such silly, unrealistic daydreams.

Continuing to drown out the voice of my father as he began introducing his advisors to Princess Teagan one by one, I gazed around the large meeting room turned dining room instead, my mind still far away. I was rarely permitted inside—on any normal day, it would be used only by Father and his advisors. The gray cobbled stone walls rose high above our heads, with a giant crystal chandelier hanging down above the marble table in the center of the room. Windows lined the long side wall, providing a clear view of the snowy Salic mountain scape that surrounded GatlynCastle. Looking out of the south facing windows, I could see Hollis laying at the base of the mountains in the distance, most windows and buildings lit up by lanterns for the evening. That was the city that Dimitri and I would always sneak out to explore as kids. The city that held The Thousand Stars Festival once a decade, and where we met Aurora. The city that was bursting at the seams with life, food, and music, which held so many of my favorite memories. The only place I felt a sliver of peace at—on the ground at least. There, dressed in commoners clothing, I was just Aviva. Sure, I was recognized sometimes, but when we visited in secret, hood obscuring my features, nobody could tell I was my father’s daughter. And that in itself took such a heavy weight off my shoulders.

“And to my left, the Princess of the North and twin to my heir, Prince Dimitri, is Aviva. Princess Aviva, rise.” I was snapped back into the present as Father introduced me to the room. I swiftly rose to my feet on command, my heart suddenly racing as every pair of eyes in the room fell on me. My eyes flicked up to meet Aurora’s, who stood along the far wall next to Hugo. Instincts kicking in, I curtsied, inclining my head slightly towards Princess Teagan, giving her my respect.

“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Princess Teagan,” I said, doing my best to keep a small smile on my face to mask my growing mix of emotions. I couldn’t help the anger bubbling in my stomach as I spoke, but also a small piece of me envied the female before me. She had something I didn’t—apurposefor her kingdom.

Princess Teagan smiled in return and swiftly nodded before I sat back down.

“Now, I’d love to get down to business if that’s alright with you, King Horace,” Teagan said, her voice firm and strong as she met Father’s gaze.

“Why of course, Princess. Go right ahead,” Father said, a small, mischievous grin beginning to play on his mouth.

“As you well know, Your Highness, our two nations have been at war for centuries. My brother, the South’s newly appointed King, has recently ascended the throne after the death of our parents. One of his wishes for our nation and our home is to put an end to this war between us. I’ve come here today to discuss this with you and see if there is anything the South can do to make this happen. For the sake of both of our people,” Teagan said, subconsciously sitting taller as she spoke, like she was trying to appear larger than she was.

Her proposition surprised me—she worded it as though she cared for those beyond her borders.

My father took a moment, letting the words sink into the room before he asked, “And what would you propose to make this happen?”

Teagan looked ready for this, responding fluidly. “My king suggested a project both nations could partake in to bring us closer together. We could build a town together, somewhere in the middle of our two lands, where volunteers from both nations who also want peace could move to. A merging of our two people in one place, to start.”

The newly appointed king was a bit of a mystery—there wasn’t a soul in the North who had met him or even had direct contact with him yet since his coronation.

Father seemed to ponder this a moment, then looked around the room at his advisors. “My dear advisors—do you believe any of your people would be willing to make such a move? To reside in the same town as ones from the South?” he asked them, his demeanor calm but curious.

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